


Between Two Eternities

by ArtemisRae



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Canon - Manga, Community: 31_days, F/M, Post canon, family fic, no real spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-02
Updated: 2011-07-02
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:58:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisRae/pseuds/ArtemisRae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a new point of view for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Two Eternities

**Author's Note:**

> For 31 Days, prompt: The past and the present overlap like double exposure on film

This is a new point of view for him.  
  
Ed’s seen this picture before, holds it close to his heart in the same way Winry keeps those sepia-toned photos on the corkboard in her workroom. He can close his eyes and see it sharp and clear around the edges: his kitchen table that bumped his chin if he leaned too close and the omnipresent milk he eyed warily every single morning. His mother at the stove, tying her hair back and wiping her hands on an apron. His father sitting next to him and reading the newspaper, absent-mindedly drinking from an empty coffee cup and rattling the pages loudly with the flick of his wrists. His brother, staring down at him even then from his high chair, banging a wooden spoon to a beat he made up as he went along.  
  
But now – now he looks from another view, and sees Winry at the sink, washing her coffee cup and trying to review notes for an upcoming surgery. There’s no less than three books spread on the table in front of him, and a notebook laying on top of a plate holding some toast; so far the only thing that’s made it to his mouth is his pencil. Next to him, the baby coos in her swing and gnaws happily on a doll that Alphonse gave her last time he was visiting. His elder child, his boy, looks up at him while he half-heartedly tears a pancake in his hands.   
  
Ed raises an eyebrow. “Eat your breakfast Alec.” But he reaches out as he says it and ruffles the boy’s hair; his reward is a bright grin, his own eyes reflected back at him, and Ed wonders, not for the first time, if his father had seen things this way and how his son would keep this memory safe.


End file.
